Lauren LongThe sun sets on the midway at the New York State Fair Saturday.

Lauren LongThe sun sets on the midway at the New York State Fair Saturday.

The kids want a donut burger and a donut dog. I give in. And in all fair-ness, it's not all bad, is it?

Lauren Long

I think our trip to the NYS Fair was, heh, fairly healthy. Seriously. There's always the dirty buzz about deep fried oreos, but if dealt with properly, I think a healthy day at the fair is entirely possible.

Take our trip last Thursday. My son and daughter and brother-in-law and two neices. In a backpack: Apples, bottled water. At the fair. A mother can dream.

Ask any kid what they want to do first at the fair: The midway. We buy the unlimited rides wrist bands. Requires walking to the booth. Opening wallet. Next, we walk down the midway. The kids see rides they want to go on and run. And skip. We run to catch up before they get lost in the crowd. Sigh.

Sip water.

And more rides. Some rides require climbing stairs. Some require climbing stairs that move. The kids go down slides. They run and skip to the next ride. They use muscles isometrically in Gravitron ride trying to hold their heads up. We stand and watch. We crane our heads to watch kids on the Enterprise. We sip more water.

Then, someone actually asks for an apple. Soon all the kids are eating apples. Because no one wants to stop riding long enough to wait in line for junk. Yet. So an apple will do. And you're thrilled because it lightens your pack. And they're scoring one serving of fruit. At the fair. Yay.

Then, everyone is thirsty. For nothing but water. Forget the sugary sodas and $10 smoothies. They want life-giving water. And you have it. They drink. We all walk. To the dairy building. For bone-building calcium. In the form of chocolate milk. My daughter thinks it over. "No I want white milk. No chocolate." "Almost," you think. "I've almost got them."

Still, no one sits yet. The excitement is contagious. We walk. Again. Back to the midway for more rides. More jumping up and down to "that was so fun!" And "let's do it again."

Soon it is time for lunch. And we are healthy, until...

The deep fried Twinkie.

"Please, mom. It's only once a year..." begs my 12-year-old.

Okay. But we have to split it six ways. We all have a piece. And it's really good.

Now for lunch. The kids want a donut burger and a donut dog. I give in. And in all fair-ness, it's not all bad, is it? It is, I tell myself, a special occasion. Where else will they get this kind of stuff? It can't be all bad to have kids "try something new." It can't be all bad to have kids appreciate bizarre flavor combinations - bacon and hot dog and maple glaze. And donut. It can't be all bad to watch the guys make this stuff sort of explain what's in it.

Can it?

I decide not to feel bad about it. And enjoy the moment.

We walk. And run. And skip. And climb some more. And ride more rides. And by the end of our trip, we pass a mini cone vendor selling miniature ice cream cones for one dollar. I'm charmed by their small price and size.

Gripping with my thumb and forefinger, I hand my nine-year-old her ice cream. "Aww. They're so cuuute," she beams.